saltfront is a newer journal that is published independently by a group of editors with a lot of ambition. They seem to be following their passions rather than paychecks, which is great; the world could use more people trying to do things outside of the system. According to their website, their aim is “to tell the stories of people in cities and on farms, of people who wander through disrupted landscapes and wonder where this all ends up.” saltfront lives up to this admirable goal with their second issue.

The journal is well put together and nicely laid out, showing an attention to detail and design that journals put out through college writing programs often lacks. Despite this, saltfront still manages to be experimental, and as an independent publication they have the ability to continue doing so. Before readers even get to the editors' note and table of contents they are given about twenty pages of a zine to explore. This bit of nostalgia is an excerpt from The Fifth Goal, a zine that was put out in the late nineties and early oughts by a Utah based documentarian and graffiti artist. An interesting read that calls into question the transitory nature of being, the zine excerpt introduces the themes of the overall issue by offering insight into the creative process of an artist and discussing how creatives engage with the natural world.

The writers featured in this issue have a lot of credits to their names. A few names on the table of contents looked familiar, but I couldn't place them without checking out the contributor's notes. The writing is great though, and it proves that emerging authors are producing exciting work. This issue is made up mostly of stories, which requires readers to pay attention and engage with the text a bit more than poetry-heavy journals. The essays, for the most part, are descriptive and provide a glimpse into the wild regions of Utah, Colorado, Idaho, and Nevada. These areas aren't as well known in the literary world as the east and west coasts are, but the vast landscapes in between offer up a beautiful backdrop for adventure and exploration.

One of the most impressive aspects of this issue is that essayists featured in it consistently succeed at incorporating multiple ideas and themes into their pieces. “Void of Heart” by Maggie Hippman is a standout essay that does this beautifully. Hippman roams from childhood memories of swimming with her brothers to explanations of Chinese medicine and then onto the geography of Salt Lake City that leads to ruminations on grief. Another essay that does a similar thing is “In the Matter of Magpies,” by Diane Leslie Fouts. Although this essay provides more of a straight linear narrative it works in sections and discusses not only the state of magpies but the human tendency to pick sides and to remember selectively.

Poems in the issue are more varied, ranging from traditionally structured verse to sprawling poems that incorporate research or jump around on the page. "Generation Black Rock," by Christopher J. Adamson and "The Lover Remembers & Forgets," by Emily J. Cousins, are both lengthy and experimental poems that beg for rereading. Cousins' poem concludes the issue, and its final lines of “weariness comes / from the dreamers / I would we were / only white birds” is a beautiful and fitting close for collection of writing presented here. If this was an editorial choice and not a bit of chance, then the abilities of saltfront's editors borders brilliance.

Although art is included in the issue it is not the stand-out feature of this journal. Presented in black and white, a lot of the visual imagery fails to impress and seems to be more of an afterthought, which is a shame because many of the images are interesting and could add to the theme if better placed and presented. Luckily, as a new journal there is the opportunity to experiment some more with this aspect and develop methods of using art to heighten the writing and its themes.

Even though saltfront has a narrower focus than many journals out there, at no time does the content seem dry or repetitive. The writing is mature and thought provoking, a trend that hopefully continues in future issues. For those interested in submitting to this publication guidelines can easily be found on their website, though these may need updating. Though their submission page declares that submissions are open it also states that the reading period ended in September. And although editors have included a “bearings and positions” section, their list is more abstract than informative and revolves around heady ideas. But, for a journal that is determined to explore human habit and habitat, perhaps that should be expected.